


Breathe

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Assassination, Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Power Imbalance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-11-23 15:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18153875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: When Mitaka is summoned to Hux's chambers following a series of errors, he assumes the worst - but the general has other plans for him.





	1. inhale

It was barely noticeable, but General Hux had loosened his collar where it chafed against the mottled purple beneath. Mitaka’s gloved fingers brushed against his own throat, turned a greenish yellow by the recent trauma.

Mitaka’s position as the _Finalizer’s_ weapons officer had ensured swift medical treatment - he knew that a stormtrooper, or even a junior officer, would not have been so lucky. But, vast as the ship was, it was hard to feel lucky when his attacker still roamed its corridors. He hadn’t seen Kylo Ren since the incident, but knowing he was back aboard the ship was more than enough to put him on edge.

And if the _general_ had been made a victim of his rage? Well, anyone on the _Finalizer_ was fair game.

With that in mind, it was increasingly difficult to concentrate on his duties. Presumably that was why he’d been summoned to Hux’s chambers. He knew that should have worried him, but all he felt was a dull sort of relief at being somewhere that even the self-proclaimed _Supreme Leader_ Kylo Ren was unlikely to intrude.

“Lieutenant.” Again, it was not especially obvious, but Mitaka noted the slight rasp behind the usual sharpness of the Hux’s voice.

“Sir?”

“Sit.” Curiously, this struck Mitaka as an invitation rather than an order, but he treated it as the latter. He had known Hux longer than most aboard the _Finalizer_ , but that hardly made them friends. Hux picked up one of several datapads, uncharacteristically strewn across his desk. “I understand there have been...errors.” He said the word with distaste, wrinkling his nose at whatever was on the datapad.

“I take full responsibility, Sir.” Hux looked at him as if waiting for an explanation, but any First Order officer worthy of their position knew better than to offer excuses for failure. Thankfully, the consequences of his recent mistakes had not been costly, and had only resulted in a couple of minor injuries (the two engineers in question were tended by medical droids and were almost fully recovered in time for their next shifts). After a long few seconds, Hux spoke.

“That would hardly be fair, would it?” He raised his hand to his collar, with an expression Mitaka had rarely seen. “We both know there’s another party responsible for this mess.” Mitaka remained silent. His other choices were to disagree with Hux or vindicate Kylo Ren, and neither seemed entirely appealing. Since the incident, he just wanted to keep his head down. Hux sighed. He looked more tired than Mitaka had ever seen him.

“Let me speak plainly,” he continued, fingernails biting into his palms through leather. “Your recent performance has suffered. But that’s not why you’re here. I find myself in need of a new... _adjutant_ , and it just so happens that you have the perfect skill set. So long as there are no more _errors_.”

Of course, the role of “adjutant” carried much more significance than the title implied. And if Hux was looking for a new one, that meant that Tritt Opan must be out of favour. Or out of the picture entirely. That was interesting.

Mitaka _was_ more than qualified - one did not graduate top of their class without becoming intimate with instruments of death. His personal favourite had been poison darts. But he suspected that one of his most desirable qualifications was one that would remain unspoken - that he hated Supreme Leader Kylo Ren as much as the general did.

“I’m honored that you’d consider me as a candidate,” Mitaka began carefully. “But surely there are many aboard with superior skills.” Hux raised an eyebrow.

“Are you questioning my judgement, Lieutenant?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Then you accept the position.” This wasn’t an invitation. This was an order. Refusal wasn’t a viable option.

“Of course.” So much for keeping his head down.

“Excellent. I’ll be in touch.” Mitaka paused before leaving, bringing his hand to his collar  again. He wasn’t sure he ought to bring it up, whether it was his _place_ , but something compelled him.

“If I might...kathbane oil helps with the bruising.” Just as the door slid shut, he heard a soft “thank you”.


	2. gasp

Mitaka’s first target was, unsurprisingly, Tritt Opan. He didn’t bother to ask why. He settled on slipping a kouhun into the captain’s trouser pocket, where the fabric was just thin enough for the wriggling little arthropod to sink its stingers into the flesh beneath. It wasn’t a particularly elegant assassination, but the poison worked quickly and the “culprit” was found to be a non-sentient creature. An unfortunate accident. Not that anyone really believed that - but all Mitaka required was that it could not be traced back to _him_.

A few hours after that fact, Hux nodded towards him as he passed Mitaka’s workstation on the bridge. Apparently his work was to the general’s liking, lazy and sloppy as he’d considered it - he was woefully out of practise. But, at least for a moment, Opan had been foolish enough to think that he was safe.

A moment was all he needed.

But when Opan collapsed in the mess hall and his breathing became laboured, Mitaka had frozen as he recalled gasping for breath as Kylo Ren’s fingers curled and closed around his neck. A concerned Chief Petty Officer Unamo gently patted his arm, said he looked pale and asked if he needed escorting to the medbay.

 _A moment was all he needed_ , he told her.

Since this wasn’t exactly _official_ First Order business, he wasn’t required to compile an official report for the general. This came as a relief, as he’d prefer not to recount the details of the incident in the mess hall (though he felt sure that Hux must have heard about his reaction). Instead, he was simply summoned to Hux’s chambers under the pretense of going over datawork.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” Hux said, pouring himself another cup of tea before offering one to Mitaka. He noticed how the general’s hands trembled slightly.

“Thank you, Sir. I’m pleased to know that you find my work satisfactory.” He brought the teacup to his lips, the contents only slightly too hot. Hux nodded, distracted.

“Indeed. I- the kathbane oil did help.” His hand stopped short of touching his neck. “I was not aware of the plant’s medicinal qualities.”

“It’s a fascinating plant,” Mitaka’s eyes brightened. “It can be a soothing agent, a medicine, an aphrodisiac, a hallucinogen...or deadly, all depending on the dose and which parts of the plant you use.” Hux smiled slightly.

“You’re very knowledgeable. Was kathbane native to your homeworld?”

“I suppose it’s a hobby.” It was strange and unexpected to be speaking with Hux about his personal interests, but without being awkward. “My stepfather worked in hydroponics. He’s fanatical about plants, really. Some of it must have rubbed off.”

“I see.” Hux’s lips twitched, as if he wanted to say something more. Mitaka continued instead.

“To be honest, I don’t really remember my homeworld. I’ve lived in the fleet since I was three. Do you remember much of Arkanis?”

“No.” When his hands balled into fists, Mitaka could almost hear the scrape of nails against his palms, even through leather. He took Hux’s hands in his own, gently unfurling the fingers. He’d half expected to be reprimanded, but Hux said nothing.

“Well, you were young when you left, too,” Mitaka said, carrying on as if grasping your superior officer’s hands mid-conversation was a completely normal thing to do. Between his recent dealings with Hux and Kylo Ren (and one _very_ odd radar technician during a brief visit to Starkiller Base) he wasn’t really sure what kind of behaviour _was_ normal anymore.

Besides, Hux still hadn’t made any attempt to shake off Mitaka’s hands.


	3. choke

It had been difficult to focus since Ren had, within the space of a few hours, throttled him and slammed him into a console. The  _ Finalizer’s _ psytech had babbled on and on about trauma. Well, Hux supposed a lack of oxygen  _ was _ somewhat  _ traumatic. _

It was especially difficult to focus when he was with Lieutenant Mitaka. 

When Mitaka grasped his hands Hux imagined he could feel the warmth of his hands through the leather of their gloves. The gesture was intimate enough that it was easy to pretend. Hux had endured plenty of physical contact over the years, but he couldn’t recall the last time someone had touched him like this, or if anybody even  _ had _ touched him like this.

“Sir?” After reaching across the desk to _hold_ _hands_ , Mitaka was still awaiting his next orders. _Pull yourself together, Armitage_. The mocking tone at the edge of his mind was Brendol’s, and he wondered whether his father would ever truly be dead.

“I- yes. The same hour tomorrow will be most convenient.” His fingertips brushed Mitaka’s as he slowly brought his hands away, fumbling before eventually settling them in his lap. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

Hux couldn’t explain the ache he felt when the door closed behind Mitaka, but he didn’t like it. Somehow it reminded him far too much of Ren’s noose-like grip as he’d choked him in the throne room, so close to what he’d wanted most.

He finished the dregs of his tarine tea before pouring himself something stronger.


	4. inspire

A month passed, yet they were barely any closer to flushing out the remnants of the Resistance, and Kylo Ren was as volatile as the kyber crystal in his saber. 

Luckily, Mitaka had been able to avoid the Supreme Leader -  Hux had been happy to assist in managing his schedule so that the two of them were unlikely to cross paths. He knew Hux didn’t have that luxury, and hoped he wasn’t suffering too much. He’d been quieter recently, and Mitaka wasn’t sure he liked that.

He found Hux in the officer’s lounge, sipping an outrageous looking cocktail that made Mitaka think the server droid might be malfunctioning (he made a note to inform engineering of this hiccup).

“Lieutenant, care to join me?” Hux indicated the empty seat next to him. Mitaka wasn’t scheduled to liaise with the general for another day, but sharing a drink (even a very strangely coloured one) with him seemed more appealing than going over datawork alone in his quarters - that could wait.

“Of course.” He removed his hat, setting it down on a surface so polished that he could see his reflection. “I’ll have...whatever it is you’re having.” He was  _ curious _ , damn it, and Hux’s amused look only encouraged that curiosity.

“A kiss on the lips,” he said to the droid behind the bar. Mitaka tried to see what went in the drink but the problem with observing droids was that they invariably worked much more efficiently than the majority of organic beings. He made a mental note of that. It might be something he could use to his advantage in future...at least, if he was able to figure out how to override some of those inconvenient commands that prevented them from harming officers.

The drink tasted better than he’d anticipated. Though he struggled to identify the exact ingredients, he did recognise white rum and some kind of sweet berry - it wasn’t at all the kind of thing he’d normally seen Hux drinking, and the general was a creature of habit. If it had been the only thing that seemed off about him lately, he might have chalked it up to nothing more than a desire to break one’s routine. He’d seen other officers, themselves just as prim and proper as General Hux, behave in this way on occasion. But all his instincts told him this was different.

He tried to pinpoint the moment it started to matter to him, and he couldn’t. Watching Hux’s slim, gloved fingers twirling a ridiculous miniature umbrella...Mitaka realised that at some point he’d stopped thinking of him only as his commanding officer, or as the brilliant but anxious boy he remembered from the Academy. 

“Your neck, Sir.” Sitting so close together, he could see the dark red bruises peeking out from beneath Hux’s collar. The injury couldn’t be more than a few hours old. His hand found Hux’s once again, as they had done four weeks ago in the general’s chambers. “I...have some more kathbane oil in my quarters, and some, um, whisky. That is, if-” He might have regretted the offer almost as soon as it slipped out from his overeager lips...if Hux hadn’t immediately downed his drink, fingers still entwined with his as he stood up. 


	5. exhale

Mitaka dropped his access cylinder on the floor twice before unlocking the door to his quarters. Hux didn’t comment, either out of politeness or preoccupation.  Mitaka suspected he knew which, and was proven correct when the door zipped shut behind them, and a pair of soft, trembling lips stopped just short of his own.

“Are you sure about this?” Hux murmured, their lips still not quite touching, but close enough that Mitaka could smell, and almost taste,  _ A Kiss on the Lips. _ His breath was hot, but the hand he brought to Mitaka’s cheek was cool. “I don’t- If this isn’t something you-”

Mitaka kissed him, running his fingers through his hair and over his cheeks, minding the bruising on his neck - he’d noticed Hux was careful to avoid touching his neck, too. The physical wounds had healed some time ago, but he appreciated the gesture more than he could say.

“I don’t feel obligated or... _ coerced _ , if that’s your concern.” He allowed himself a small smile. “I’m not angling for a promotion either, though as competency tests go, I’d be pretty confident about this one.” Hux rolled his eyes, but stooped ever so slightly to kiss him back all the same. It started gently enough, until Mitaka gripped Hux’s hips to pull him closer, and they quickly found themselves enmeshed in a clash of teeth and a tangle of limbs. Both men cursed the stylish yet over complicated fastenings on their uniforms.

Hux fiddled with one of the clasps on Mitaka’s jodhpurs, with all the grace Mitaka had displayed with his access cylinder. 

“Here, let me- it’s surprisingly difficult to unclasp from that angle.” Hux’s hand slid back to his thigh as he loosened his trousers.

“I can’t say I’ve had reason to attempt it until now.” When Hux touched him, Mitaka let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “Is this-”

“Yes.  _ Gods _ , yes.” It was only now, with Hux’s hand down his pants, that he realised that at some point the general’s gloves had come off. But he was still wearing too many clothes. When Mitaka heard the sound of a zipper he broke contact briefly, so that he might remedy that situation. He tugged Hux’s jodhpurs to his knees - that would have to do for now, since he hadn’t removed his boots and Mitaka wasn’t planning on getting down on his knees just yet.

The bruise that covered the length of Hux’s right thigh was older, yellower. Mitaka didn’t ask how he got it. He doubted either of them wanted to talk or even think about the Supreme Leader right now, so he kissed Hux again instead. He was quiet, but Hux’s body let Mitaka know which caresses and strokes to repeat, with every hitched breath, every choked back moan, every shiver...and every time his own movements became sloppy.

Somehow Hux managed to steer them towards the bed without tripping. It wasn’t exactly designed to fit two people, but at the very least they could sit down and take their damn boots off. Usually all sharp lines and padded shoulders, Hux looked smaller without his clothes on - even if he did still have a good few inches on Mitaka. Where there was no bruising, Mitaka’s hands roamed over skin peppered with light freckles before finding their way back between his legs, drawing out something like a sob.

“Should I stop?” Hux shook his head and guided him closer, until Mitaka’s lips were pressed against his neck. He was one of perhaps only a handful of people on the  _ Finalizer _ who realised what a great gesture of trust this was - one that he could not yet quite return, but Hux didn’t seem to mind giving him that space.

Mitaka was gentle as he kissed Hux’s throat, his lips barely grazing the still-sensitive skin. He was a little rougher with his hands, as seemed to be Hux’s preference. Before long, his hips jerked  _ hard _ , and if Mitaka hadn’t been paying attention he might have found himself toppling from the edge of his bed (if this seemed likely to happen again he would  _ definitely _ be suggesting the general’s own quarters).

He was close, too. Hux’s strokes were slow and lazy, but he clearly knew what he was doing. Mitaka came with a soft groan, face still buried between Hux’s shoulder and his neck, and for a few moments they simply sat together, side by side.

“So,” Hux said, pausing. “You said you have whisky?”

“I did, but...it wasn’t exactly true.” He indicated an unmarked bottle of moonshine on his desk, next to his collection of plants. “I’m not sure it’s really appropriate to offer to an officer of your  _ calibre _ , but…” Hux shrugged, walked over to the desk and took a swig from the bottle.

Mitaka grinned. The evening certainly promised to be a lot more interesting than going over datawork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who took the time to read! It was an idea I'd had for a while after TLJ but only just got around to writing. I'm aware my characterisation of Mitaka is probably a bit _different_ to a lot of fanon, but I hope it was enjoyable :)


End file.
